


Eye of the Beholder

by MyNameIsTroyble (TheSpookyJester), Shinketsu_Karasu



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst & Emotional Hurt/Comfort (Attempted), Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Implied/Referenced Emotional/Physical Abuse (childhood & adult), Major Character Death(s) (past/mentioned), Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, So does Jake, Still has zombies in it, The Otto Family Just Has Issues, Troy has issues, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, really canon divergent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2018-12-31 22:00:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12142014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpookyJester/pseuds/MyNameIsTroyble, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinketsu_Karasu/pseuds/Shinketsu_Karasu
Summary: The Clark's & Otto's are natural enemies: vampire hunters & vampires. But is there more to their pre-conceived notions of each other than meets the eye?Tags to be added progressively.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Fic will be multi-chaptered, not sure how many.  
> Some canon events have been changed, others remain the same. There are definitely going to be questions going into this, we can assure you that most of them will be answered in the upcoming chapters!  
> As always, thank you to the lovely amazing LostinMysticFalls for beta reading this!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Any vampire hunter worth her salt knew that the only difference between this new world and the old one were that there were two types of walking dead to worry about."  
> The Clark's & Otto's are natural enemies: vampire hunters & vampires. But is there more to their pre-concieved notions of each other than meets the eye?  
> Tags to be added progressively.

Troy Otto stood in a darkened hallway, staring intently through the two-way mirror in front of him. His steely blue eyes had an inhuman shine to them and a barely contained glint of excitement as he studied the two women on the opposite side of the mirror. The younger of the two, a brunette, seemed almost bored. They'd both been held in the room for hours. It was likely that she _was_ bored, as so many young people often were. Troy was _never_ bored, there were always too many thoughts crawling through his head. It was the opposite of boredom, sometimes even bordering on the overwhelming. But when he turned his hungry eyes towards the older woman… there was something about her that caused all else in his mind to go quiet, he felt compelled to focus solely on her. 

Troy slipped his fingers into his pocket, taking a somewhat-battered journal out of his jacket along with a pen. He began to scribble his observations, his eyes flashing from the pages of his journal up towards the blonde woman and back again as he meticulously made note of every single piece of clothing she was wearing: Her sexy black heels, buckled up pants and top – her clothing the perfect combination of showing just enough skin to ignite Troy's imagination, but not enough to give anything away. She had on a pair of gloves, a short black tailcoat, and goggles up on her forehead. There were empty holsters practically everywhere that Troy could see. She had been loaded down with enough weaponry to take out entire enemy compounds, if not more. But most of her obvious weapons had been confiscated when she had been brought into the base. 'Good thing she doesn't have those weapons on her now… ' Troy thought, though something told him that she was still more than capable of killing him with or without them. 

He continued to watch her, now too fascinated to even continue taking notes. His blue eyes stared, mesmerized by the blonde, watching the way she moved – pacing back and forth like a wild animal in a cage – her hazel eyes flicking around the room as though searching for hidden traps or trying to find something to use to her advantage. There was something different about her, about _both_ of them… though the younger of the two held much less interest for Troy. They had not only been attacked by two of his men – fellow vampires, like himself – as they were approaching this military complex, but they quite easily dispatched both of them, taking no injuries whatsoever. 

It wasn't that Troy had never seen vampire hunters before; after all, the Black Hat Reservation and the Otto family had always been bitter enemies. Their feuds spread out over the centuries since Troy and his family had first turned, before the Indians even _lived_ on a reservation. Troy knew that vampire hunters could be as widespread as vampires themselves. Aside from the ones at Black Hat, he had not encountered any other humans who even saw him for what he was, much less knew how to fight and kill him and his kind. _This_ was something worth looking into… It was why he had chosen to separate these two women from the other humans down in his lab. It would have been a waste to kill them just to time how long it took them to come back… As important as it was for him to understand why his food source had become infected and how long their bodies took to spoil, questioning these two women about who they were and where they had come from was just as important, if not _more_ so. If there were more vampire hunters moving into the Otto's territory, Troy and the other vampires living on his family's land would want to know about it.

As he pulled his mind away from his musings and towards the blonde woman – clearly the more capable of his two captives – he was surprised to see that she had stopped pacing and was instead standing directly in front of him on the opposite side of the two-way mirror. If his heart beat at all it would've jumped into his throat at that moment. He knew there was no possible way that she could see him; what looked like a window to him was nothing more than a mirror on her end, but still… as she stood there, hands on her hips, all confidence and assertion he could _swear_ that her intense hazel eyes were staring directly at him. He licked his lips slightly, almost nervously, running his tongue over one of his sharp fangs with excitement before mentally scolding himself.

'No, not yet. For now just _talk_ to her, get the information you need… _then_ you can feed.' He thought, shaking his head and running his fingers through his disheveled brunette hair. 

'If they _are_ vampire hunters then they'll know what I am… and they're certainly _dressed_ like vampire hunters.' he thought, glancing at the blonde woman briefly, 'Should I try to convince them that I'm friendly?' he wondered awkwardly, before realizing that he wasn't even sure he knew _how_ to act friendly. 'Maybe they're hungry, humans need to feed too, right? Just… on food… ' he pondered this for a moment before recalling the military rations that he and his men had found when they first took the base.

'Those will have to do.' he thought, heading off to the base's kitchens.

Troy returned to the women a few moments later, a tray of food in his hands as well as two cups of coffee. He stopped outside the door for a moment, hesitant that he would really be able to pull this off. His brother Jake was much better at being nice than Troy was, but he wasn't sure he had another choice at this point.

Opening the door, he smiled awkwardly at his “guests”, carefully keeping his teeth hidden. If he was lucky then the dim room would work to his advantage and he would simply look pale and somewhat sickly to them. He was wearing army fatigues that he and his men had taken from the soldiers when they first entered the base so hopefully he would look the part of a border patrol agent. But if he was right about these women being vampire hunters then he'd just have to hope that they bought his “friendly vampire” act. 

“You must be hungry,” he began, setting the tray on a coffee table in front of the couch the younger woman was sitting on. “I brought you some coffee,” he said, holding a cup out towards the blonde who furrowed her brow  & scowled deeply at him. When she made no motion to take it, he set it back on the tray and moved to the opposite side of the moderately small room, sitting on the desk.

“I'm Troy,” he said, moving his mouth as little as possible to hide his fangs. “You are?” 

There was no immediate answer. The blonde woman stared him down, obviously suspicious. Just as the silence was beginning to get awkward the younger woman spoke up.

“I'm Alicia…” she started, stopped, and looked at the older woman. She waited for the blonde to introduce herself as well but when she didn't respond Alicia sighed and motioned towards her, “She's my mom.”  
Troy looked from Alicia to her mother, intrigued. “And your name is?” he asked, finding it difficult not to stare directly into her eyes as she fixed him with an icy look.

After a pause she answered. “… Madison.”

“Madison...” he repeated, unable to stop the grin that slipped across his face. “…that's a beautiful name.” Immediately after saying it he began to question _why_ he had said that… and he wasn't able to come up with an answer. Troy quickly pulled the journal out of his jacket once more and began to scribble in his chicken-scratch handwriting. 

Whenever something came up that intrigued or confused him he wrote it down. It was almost a compulsion, a need to know the answers; the why's, the how's, and the what's not only of the world, but of himself. There were a lot of things he did that he didn't always understand. But he wanted to remember what they were, and he wanted to _try_ to understand why, even if he failed. 

“What are you writing?” Madison asked, her eyes narrowed at him, her posture tense but unafraid. Troy stopped writing mid-sentence and looked up at her from his seated position, almost as though he felt like he'd just been caught doing something wrong. He averted his eyes awkwardly, not used to people asking too many questions about his journal, especially not humans. He found that it made him somewhat uncomfortable.

“Oh… uh… just… observations…” he answered, trying not to show his discomfort, “I like to take notes… about what's important.” 

Madison sighed heavily, “Look, I'm tired of you doing… whatever it is you're doing and trying to pretend you aren't what you are. I _know_ what you are, Troy. You don't have a reflection for Christ's sake!” she snapped impatiently, motioning towards the mirror which, as his electric blue eyes glanced towards it, he could see that she was absolutely right; his reflection was noticeably missing despite both Alicia and Madison being visible. He hadn't thought of that little detail.

‘Damn… I should make a note of that so I don't forget it next time…' Troy thought. Before he could start his scribbling again Madison continued speaking, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“So if you're going to feed from us or eat us you're more than welcome… to _try.”_ she challenged, her lips curling up at the corners in a mocking sneer. “In fact, I _want_ you to try, it would give me even _more_ of an excuse to kill you. But I want you to know, no matter how this goes down, it is only going to end one way for you and all the other vampire scum that may be skulking around in the dark corners of the world like rats: I came here to find my son. I'm _not_ leaving without him. Even if I have to kill every goddamn one of you, I _will._ And don't you think I _won’t.”_

Troy stared at her, transfixed, his blue eyes shining with excitement. She wasn't just a vampire hunter, she wasn't _just_ different. She was strong, willful, and completely fearless. He was used to humans being little more than prey to him… but Madison, she was _different_ , and definitely _not_ prey. He had no doubt in his mind that she had the skills to back up her words, weapons or not. And somehow, instead of that troubling him, the burning fire inside of her drew him in like a moth to the flame, heedless of the very real possibility that she might burn him alive.

“You're looking for your son?” he asked, intrigued by this new piece of information about her. It seemed that he was intrigued by _any_ piece of information he could get about her, but that thought he set aside for the moment. “Yes, my son, Nick.”

“Nick…” Troy repeated, “Yeah, I… think that we _do_ have your son here.” he said.

Madison pursed her lips. “… Is he alive?” she asked, the waver in her voice barely perceptible, even to his sensitive ears.

“Yes.” Troy answered, knowing that this 'Nick' was down in his lab somewhere and may very well have been killed already… but Madison didn't need to know that.

“Where is he?” she asked, her voice low and menacing. Troy licked his lips with excitement. “He's uh…being processed.” he answered directly.

–-------

Nick sat against the cold floor of the basement of the military complex where he had led the people of La Colonia. He thought he was leading them to a safe haven, a place where hopefully there would be shelter and supplies. A place where they would all be safe. Instead, he led them straight into a vampire attack.

Most of the people in La Colonia were trained vampire hunters or, like Nick, were at least _in training_ to hunt vampires. These were people who knew the vampire menace was real and knew how to fight and kill them… but they hadn't been expecting them at the border crossing. They hadn't been expecting the vampires to be dressed as border patrol, and they hadn't expected them to have guns. The vampires didn't even kill them the way they normally killed, the way that most of them had come to expect vampires to attack. They simply took them out in a hail of gunfire. Good old human ingenuity being used by vampires to kill humans. It was kind of ironic, when he stopped to think about it. 

But all of those people dying… their blood was on his hands and he felt that keenly, especially with Luciana resting heavily against his shoulder, in and out of consciousness. She was wounded _badly_ , and Nick knew that if she didn't get help soon that she would probably die… all because of him.

He heard the men around him talking, from what he could tell two of them were human thralls, still alive, but under the third man's control. The third was a vampire dressed in military fatigues masquerading as a human.

They referred to the room Nick and the other captives were held in as “the lab” and he could only watch what they were doing to the people helplessly. They were killing them, executing them… but instead of feeding on them they were waiting, timing how long it took for the humans to come back as infected. But why? 

Nick had never seen or heard of vampires behaving this way before and it didn't make any sense to him. Weren't these people more valuable to them as a food source? Why kill perfectly good meat and _not_ eat it? It was like they were just killing for fun or… maybe they didn't know how or why humans were turning into infected either. Maybe they were trying to figure it out just like the humans were, just in a more… brutal manner. Either way, it didn't matter, not right now. Nick couldn't let it happen to him or Luci. If he had _any_ hope of her surviving then he would have to get them out of there and he'd have to do it sooner rather than later.

As the three men spoke, the vampire laughed about something; it seemed he and his thralls were placing bets on which humans in the room would turn fastest. They were distracted, and even appeared to be having fun. One of Nick's fellow captives decided to use this to his advantage.

“Hey,” he said, barely above a whisper.

It took Nick a moment to realize that he was speaking to him, but he turned his head towards the man slightly. He sat on his other side from Luciana and quietly introduced himself as Steven. 

“She's not looking very good,” the man commented softly, glancing from Luciana back to Nick. Nick looked from their captors to Steven, making sure that they were still occupied.

“We don't have a lot of time here, get to the point.” Nick replied quickly and quietly, his eyes on the vampire as he spoke. It was likely that Steven was just a human, _not_ a vampire hunter, and was probably unaware that their situation was even worse than it looked… and it looked pretty damn bad, vampires notwithstanding.

“She's dying,” Steven said, as though Nick needed to be reminded of this. “I can help you get out. There are sewer tunnels outside that lead right to the border.”

This piece of information caught Nick's attention as he carefully shifted his eyesight from the vampire to Steven.

“Where is this?” he asked.

“It's near the entrance to this building, if you get out then you should be able to spot it.” Steven responded. Nick pondered this new bit of information.

He knew the building itself was military barracks; when he and Luciana had been dragged down there after being attacked at the border crossing Nick tried to pay attention and remember what he could of the building's layout, but he hadn't seen as much of it as he'd hoped. He also had no idea how many more vampires or thralls might be out there – more than he could handle on his own, that was for sure – and Luciana was in no state to fight, but he refused to even _think_ about leaving her behind. If they had help, even from just _one_ other person, it could make a difference. 

Nick was about to reply when he heard footsteps approaching and looked over to see the blonde vampire moving closer.

“Hey, grab her…she looks like she's about ready to keel over anyway…” he ordered, motioning to Luciana with a slight laugh. Without a second thought, Nick jumped to his feet, getting between the “soldier” and Luci. She slid down the wall slightly due to Nick's absence, her eyes snapping open at the sudden movement.

“Nick…” she protested weakly.

“Just rest, Luci.” Nick answered, turning his attention back to the vampiric soldier that stood before him.

“Take me.” he offered.

“Take _you?”_ the man responded, laughing, his blue eyes shining inhumanly with amusement. “So you _wanna_ die?”

“That's just the thing, man.” Nick replied, “I don't die, I'm not worried.”

“You don't die?” the vampire repeated, clearly skeptical.

“I don't. Don't believe me? Why don't you find out? What's it gonna hurt? Just take me over there and shoot me like everyone else, you'll see.” Nick challenged. The vampire chuckled, then scoffed and shook his head.

“You humans are just getting crazier and crazier, y'know that? Must be the infection…” He shrugged and motioned at the two thralls in the room, “He wants to die, let's give the man what he wants.”

“Whatever you say, Willy.” one of the thralls replied. The two of them advanced, dragged Nick over to the wall and began to chain him. 

As the thralls prepared Nick for execution, the vampire named Willy stood directly in front of him, an amused grin on his face.

“Any last words?” he asked. Nick shook his head.

“Nah, man…no final words. I don't die, remember?”

Before Willy could respond, Nick quickly ripped his arms away from the thralls securing him and smashed Willy in the face with a gloved fist, the silver spikes on the ends of Nick's knuckles driven deep into the vampire's face. Nick heard a satisfying crunching sound as Willy's facial bones broke beneath his fist and smelled the unpleasant aroma of his undead flesh burning. Nick's other hand darted out and grabbed Willy's gun from the holster. He spun the vampire around so that Willy's back was to him and placed him between himself and the thralls. Nick dispatched both thralls swiftly from behind his shield. As they dropped to the ground, all hell broke loose.

The remaining human captives made a break for it, all of them trying to squeeze through the only exit simultaneously. Nick heard the ones who got out scream, their voices echoed in the hallways outside the room as they were quickly spotted and hunted down by the various other vampires throughout the barracks. Nick didn't let that distract him.

He stomped his heel on the ground, a silver knife built into the steel toe of his boot revealing itself, and quickly kicked out, slicing a big chunk of undead flesh off of Willy's Achilles tendon. The vampire screamed as he dropped to the floor. He was disabled but alive, and it would take him time to regenerate, but that was all the time that Nick needed to get Luci out of there.

He ran to her and quickly pulled her arm around his shoulders, placing his other arm around her waist as he lifted her to her feet. She was barely conscious.

<“Lucy, we have to go,”> he spoke in Spanish, unsure whether or not she could hear or comprehend him. 

Nick and Luciana shoved past the other humans and made their way into the hall. Nick heard a struggle as Willy grabbed Steven, who had been behind them when they exited the room. The sound of crunching bones and the blood-curdling screams that escaped Steven's throat as Willy fed turned Nick's stomach, but he forced it from his mind. If Willy was feeding that meant he was occupied – for the moment – but it _also_ meant that he would be able to regenerate from the injuries Nick had inflicted much faster than he had anticipated. 

Luciana was so injured that Nick could only move so fast, but he knew that they needed to move _faster._ If they managed to get out of the barracks and find the sewer grate then at least Steven wouldn't have died for nothing.

The pair moved as quickly as they could, Nick paused before they turned corners to keep a sharp lookout for any vampires in the area. Luckily for them, most vampires that they came across were too preoccupied with feeding on the other humans who had escaped to even notice them.

Eventually, they made their way out of the barracks and into the light of the setting sun. 'If the sun is still up there probably won't be a lot of vampires out here, at least not yet,' Nick thought as he scanned the area, 'Those sewer tunnels still sound like the best bet, hopefully we can slow down once we get in there. I'm not sure if Luci can keep up this pace much longer without collapsing.' 

He glanced down worriedly at his almost unconscious girlfriend, adjusting his grip on her to compensate for how heavily she was leaning on him. Thankfully, the nearest sewer grate was large and easy to spot. Nick led Luci over to the opening. He kept a wary eye out as he set Luciana down and removed the lid. Carefully, he lifted her up again and helped her climb down the ladder before he quickly followed her down into the dank, dark tunnels. He slung her arm around his shoulder once again and began to move, but Luci reached out weakly with her other hand to tug at the collar of his shirt.

“No…” she protested weakly, “I'm slowing you down, just leave me.”

“No!” Nick replied definitively, speaking in Spanish,  <”I will _never_ leave you!” > he insisted, cupping her face with his free hand and smiling at her. “We're going, Luci. Now.”

She smiled faintly and nodded, trying not to lean too heavily on him but finding it difficult to do anything else as they made their way through the sewer tunnel.

–-------

Apparently the fact that Nick was going through “processing” was _really_ not what Madison had wanted to hear.

Before Troy was aware of how much closer to him she'd moved she slammed him down headfirst on the desk, moving surprisingly fast for a human. With a small flick of her hand a silver spike came out of her ring and she swiftly stabbed him in the eye.

Troy partially screamed but, oddly enough, laughed slightly as well. There was pain, of course, there was always pain, but there was also a thrill, an adrenaline rush that had suddenly surged through his undead body. It wasn't often that a strong, beautiful woman stabbed him in the eye with her ring. To him, it almost felt strangely romantic… something else to write down in his journal later, he thought.

But as she twisted the ring deeper into his eye he was no longer laughing, the silver quickly began to burn the flesh around his eye socket and forehead as well as the eye itself. It was a thoroughly unpleasant experience.

Madison pinioned his arms behind his back but knew that she wouldn't be able to hold him long. She needed her other hand free, there were bound to be more blood-sucking scum lurking around.

“Alicia, take my belt  & tie his hands.” She instructed and her daughter hurried over to do as the older woman said.

“Let's go for a walk, Troy.” Madison growled in his ear once his hands were secured.

Forcing his head back with one hand, she removed the pistol from his holster with the other. She walked him out of the room and marched down the hall. By the time they exited the building, the situation wasn't nearly as fun for the brunette vampire anymore.

In the light of the setting sun the burning of his face from the silver intensified and he moaned in pain. The whole half of his face smoldered and sizzled like bacon, smoke rising into the air as they were closed in on all sides by thralls in army fatigues, holding them at gunpoint.

“Stop!” Troy yelled, his voice strained from the pain. “Don't shoot, I can't regenerate like this!!”

“Put down your guns unless you want him to die!” Madison yelled.

“I want my son, _give_ me my son!!” she threatened as she drove the silver spike of her ring even deeper into Troy's eye, his eyeball itself beginning to bubble and burst as he screamed. 

The men didn't put down their guns… but they weren't shooting at them either. These thralls were dead but under the control of the vampires, they could think, speak, and understand.

“Find a car, Alicia, we're finding Nick and getting out of here!” The blonde Clark matriarch yelled, keeping her eyes on the thralls. Her daughter nodded in response and ran off.

“Where. Is. My. Son!?” Madison demanded once more through gritted teeth, about to drive the spike deeper into Troy's eye when he yelled out. “He was in the lab!”

“Was? What do you mean _was?!”_ She demanded.

Troy's response was strained. “I don't know… I don't know if he's still there or if he's still alive.”

“If he's dead I'm gonna--” the blonde began, but was cut off by a young man who had approached quickly and suddenly, as though from thin air. Madison hadn't seen or heard his approach, a tell-tale sign of vampire invisibility. She leveled the pistol she had taken from Troy at the man warily, as she quickly assessed him for more vampiric signs. 

He wasn't holding a gun or any other weapons, not that Madison could see… not that a vampire _needed_ a weapon to kill. He was crouched low to the ground and held his hand out palm down in a non-threatening manner, as though trying to calm a wild animal. His voice was soft but slightly panicked, and he held an umbrella over his head… in the middle of the desert, on a cloudless day. Madison stared at it with a disgusted expression. The only reason to have an umbrella in the desert was to keep out of the sun. Her suspicions about him being a vampire were confirmed as far as she was concerned.

“Let's all just calm down…” The man pleaded, his blue eyes reflecting light as they darted nervously from the thralls in military uniforms to Madison and Troy as though he was concerned that they might open fire at any moment.

“Look, I know whatever my brother did or said he probably brought all this on himself…” he continued, “But I don't want anyone to die, alright?” 

Madison narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, pursing her lips. He didn't seem to be trying to pretend that he wasn't a vampire, not like _Troy_ , but he still claimed that he didn't want anyone to get hurt.

“That's all you vampires do, isn't it? Hurt people?” she mocked.

The man paused, then shook his head slowly, “Not all of us are… like my brother. I'll help you find your son and then you're free to go, _all_ of you.”

“Jake, don't be stupid!” Troy yelled. Madison took the aim of her pistol off of the other vampire for a fraction of a second and swiftly shot Troy in the foot. Instead of screaming, the vampire hostage laughed slightly, almost excitedly. “Oh, I _like_ you!”

“Shut up, Troy!” Both Madison and his brother, Jake, yelled in unison. Madison scowled deeply over at Jake as the vampire sighed heavily. “Please just… I _want_ to help you find your son, but I need to know you're not going to kill my brother first. Please let him go.”

Madison scoffed. “Like hell.” She replied, spitting in Jake's general direction. “ _No_ such thing as an honest vampire.”

Jake sighed again and opened his mouth to respond when he was cut off by the sound of infected and gunshots. _All_ of them: human, thrall, and vampire alike spun towards the noise and Madison took her chance. Detaching her ring from his eye, she threw Troy to the ground with all her strength, the setting sun would keep him down long enough for her to put distance between them.

She dashed past the others, gun raised, and followed the sounds. They led to her son, at the end of a sewer tunnel, surrounded by infected. By his side sat a woman that Madison had never seen before, though she was obviously human, badly injured, and clearly in no shape to fight.

“Nick!” Madison cried, charging in to help him thin out the infected. She moved closer to him and helped to shield the injured woman as she and her son fought side-by-side.

Having heard her mother call Nick's name, Alicia soon joined them and the Clark family formed a protective ring around Luciana, killing the infected as a team. Nick and Madison shot the infected and Alicia killed those that got too close with her butterfly knife.

Too soon, Nick ran out of bullets. Cursing, Madison prepared to cover Nick's targets when suddenly gunshots rang out from the direction they had just left.

The Clark's turned to see that it was Jake, and he wasn't shooting at _them_ , he was helping to clear out the dead attacking them. 

As she looked back at her children, Madison could see that they both wore expressions of confusion.

“We'll deal with him later, focus your shots and don't let it distract you!” Madison affirmed, although she was secretly horribly confused by Jake's behavior as well. Thankfully, there weren't nearly as many of them left as there were when they started. If Madison hadn't found Nick when she had… she didn't want to think about what would've happened.

As soon as the infected were taken care of, Madison whirled around, her gun on Jake once more. Her eyes flicked behind her for a moment and she noticed that she was the only one with a raised weapon. Sure, Nick's gun was out of bullets and Alicia only had a knife, but at least Alicia's weapon was silver… yet both of her children seemed reluctant to hold a weapon on someone who just helped them, _despite_ him being a vampire.

_“Focus.”_ Madison growled, glancing back at her children. They still didn't raise their weapons, instead Alicia removed a crossbow from her back and handed it to Madison.

“You found my crossbow…” the blonde matriarch almost cooed for a moment.

“She was in one of the cars I checked for keys,” Her daughter explained. “All of our gear was there.”

Madison nodded, now back to all-seriousness. She leveled her custom-made crossbow, loaded with silver bolts, at Jake and passed the gun off to Alicia.

“Go ahead and grab that car, Alicia… we'll want to get out of here sooner rather than later… the sun's almost down.”

Alicia nodded and ran off, passing Jake on her way; she kept her distance but still cast a quick, curious glance towards him as she headed towards the carport.

Jake lowered his gun and very slowly crouched down, setting it on the ground along with his umbrella. He pushed the gun away from him with his foot and raised his hands above his head in a typical motion of surrender, attempting to appear non-threatening.

Madison was not fooled, the very fact that he had set down his umbrella meant that the sun had set enough that he no longer needed it.

“I should kill you right now.” she said, her voice low and deathly serious. 

“Why? For helping you?” Jake asked, cocking his head to the side and raising an eyebrow. He looked genuinely confused and Madison almost laughed.

'Oh, he's _good_.' she thought.

“I should kill you before the sun completely sets. I can't get _all_ of ya… but I can get you, at least…” she said, lining him up in the sight of her crossbow in anxious reflex.

“So why haven't you then?” 

Before Madison could answer, Nick interrupted, panic evident in his voice. “Mom, stop. It's Luci…” he hauled the injured woman to her feet with difficulty; she was out cold and had turned a sickly pale.

“We've got to get out of here and get her help and we _have_ to do it now!” Nick insisted. “She's not dying, mom, not if there's still a chance…” he trailed off as he lifted Luciana's unconscious body off of her feet and carried her in his arms.

“We can pick fights with every vampire in the world some other day, right now Luci needs a doctor and we have to go.”

As if to enforce his decision, a jeep pulled up right beside them with Alicia in the driver's seat. Nick immediately moved to get Luciana loaded into the back of the jeep and Madison frowned slightly but slowly moved over to the jeep as well, never taking her aim off of Jake.

“This isn't over.” Madison hissed.

“I'd be disappointed if it was.” Jake responded quietly, giving a small smile as Madison jumped into the passenger seat and spoke quickly. 

“Drive, before they come after us!”

Alicia deftly maneuvered the vehicle through the base, and after a moment replied, “…I don't think anyone's coming, mom.”

Madison turned to look out the rear cab window but there was nothing to be seen as they made their escape. It was as though the vampires had simply disappeared in a puff of smoke.

'But they do that, right? Now you see 'em, now you don't? ...Damn vampires.' were her last thoughts as they drove into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, feel free to leave comments or ask questions! We don't bite...much. ;P


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The Otto estate itself hadn't been on the property when Jake's family had taken the land. That been over two centuries ago… Jake was only twenty-seven years old at the time. He had never really agreed with the decision, but the rest of his family had their minds made up that they wanted the land that the Native Americans claimed to be “cursed.” His father always insisted the opposite, that the land was holy or sacred. Back then there was nothing here but the old adobe… and the tree. "
> 
> The Clark's & Otto's are natural enemies: vampire hunters & vampires. But is there more to their preconceived notions of each other than meets the eye?  
> Tags to be added progressively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some canon events have been changed, others remain the same. There are definitely going to be questions going into this, we can assure you that most things not already explained in the first chapter will be answered here and everything else will be answered later, promise!  
> As always, thank you to the lovely amazing LostinMysticFalls for beta reading this!

~~Vampires~~

Once the vampire hunters had left, Jake swiftly moved over and grabbed his brother roughly by the collar, hauling him to his feet. Now that the sun had set the other vampires had begun to trickle out of the buildings and Jake made it immediately clear to them that they were leaving. Those vampires who had control over the undead thralls released their captives and the lifeless bodies dropped uselessly to the ground. The other vampires dashed around quickly collecting what weapons the thralls had been using before they retreated in the direction of the Broke Jaw estate. Troy grinned widely at his brother as Jake dragged him into the darkness of the carport, out of view of any prying eyes.  
Jake frowned at his younger brother as he inspected the damage. The smell of burnt flesh still lingered around him; at least his face had stopped sizzling and popping in the sun, that had been incredibly unpleasant for Jake to see. Troy seemed to have been enjoying himself regardless.  
“What is _wrong_ with you??” Jake hissed as he untied his brother's hands and reached into a nearby car to grab a pack of bandages from the first aid kit, handing them to Troy.  
“…Is that supposed to be a serious question?” Troy responded rhetorically, staring at the bandages for a moment, confused.  
“…They're for your face, Troy. She burned half your face off, in case you didn't notice.” Jake explained, his tone clearly annoyed but also tinged with worry that he was obviously trying to hide. “...It even started burning your scalp off, you're missing some of your hair.” He fretted quietly, averting his eyes and frowning. He was too angry with his younger brother right now to show how scared he had been that she could have easily killed Troy if things had gone differently.  
“Eh… it'll grow back...” Troy shrugged almost casually.  
“Just… put on the bandages, alright? I'm sick of looking at it.” Jake insisted.  
His brother frowned slightly but shrugged again, quickly applying the bandage to his eye. Some of his face still showed and there was no ignoring his missing hair or scalp, but it would have to do, Jake thought.  
Sighing, he crossed his arms over his chest, “'Me and the guys are just going to get a bite to eat,' wasn't that what you said to me?” Jake asked with slight irritation, not expecting an actual answer. “That was _two days_ ago, Troy. You know I don't like coming with you to feed...”  
“Yeah, but you somehow always seem to end up wherever I am anyway.” Troy grumbled.  
“Oh, come on, Troy… you can't _seriously_ expect me to just _assume_ that you'll go somewhere and come back without a scratch on you.” Jake shot back, “I _have_ to follow you when you leave, for your own sake. If it wasn't for me you would've ended up dead so many times I… I don't even want to think about it.” the older brother shook his head and waved a hand in a dismissive manner, as though trying to drive away the worrisome thoughts.  
“So what if I _do_ get a scratch or two sometimes, Jake? I can take care of myself! I don't need you charging in to save me all the time like I'm some damn kid!”  
“Yeah, you do, you really do.” the older brother reminded him firmly, _“Someone_ has to think about your safety because _you_ clearly don't.”  
“Well _maybe_ if you would just eat _with_ us then I wouldn't end up with any of those goddamn bumps and bruises that seem to concern you so much.” Troy mocked, his lip curling slightly into a defiant sneer.  
Trying not to let Troy's biting sarcasm get to him, Jake answered in as even a tone as his annoyance would allow. “You know I'm always close enough to know if something happens… and I'm out here hunting, same as you, I just-”  
“You and I just don't like the same kind of meat.” Troy interrupted, the two of them exchanging a look with their reflective blue eyes.  
“…Besides the point.” Jake continued, “I knew that you spending so much time here was _more_ than just getting a meal, Troy. I just _knew_ you were doing something here other than what you said...”  
“What's it to you what I'm doing?” Troy responded with disdain, seemingly offended that his brother would dare to stick his nose where it didn't belong, though they both knew that this stupid song and dance was nothing that hadn't happened before.  
Ignoring his brother's question, Jake pressed on, “I _know_ that you're trying to understand the infected, Troy, I _understand_ that. But killing people just for… What? Some possibly _useless_ information?”  
“It's not _useless!”_ Troy insisted, his tone genuinely offended at the mere implication that it _could_ be. “It's science! What I'm doing is important, and not just for me, for all of us! We need to know why our food's spoiling, Jake. Where the hell did this infection come from? We need to know because--!” the younger vampire stopped himself just short of saying, 'reasons.' He knew that 'reasons' was not a good enough answer and yet he couldn't think of anything better to say. Instead he simply shut his mouth and scowled at his brother, crossing his arms moodily across his chest in a defensive posture.  
There was a silence between them for a moment as neither brother said anything, instead exchanging irritated glances with each other.  
Finally, after he tried to give his brother a moment to calm down, Jake spoke up, softly and quietly. “Troy… saying that we need to know something 'just because.' That's _not_ a real answer, and it doesn't excuse what you did here.”  
“I don't _need_ to excuse what I did here, Jake! I didn't do anything wrong!” the younger brother repeated angrily, still more worked up and guarded then Jake had hoped.  
Despite the fact that Troy insisted he hadn't done anything wrong – and he may even have _meant_ it – he was still arguing the point to an extent that Jake believed that even if his brother didn't consciously _realize_ it, he probably _did_ feel the need to defend that his actions were somehow justified. Maybe somewhere in Troy's mind he realized that some of the things he did couldn't or _shouldn't_ be excused. At least that was what Jake hoped.  
Troy could be hard to read at the best of times and most of what he did confused Jake; but when it came down to it, despite the fact that the Otto brothers did not see eye to eye on most things, Jake loved his brother. And he liked to hope that somewhere within him Troy felt the same way about him. It wasn't a thing that either of them ever talked about. If there ever _had_ been a time for that it had long since passed.  
“Look...” Jake sighed, deciding that maybe he should just let the matter rest, “Let's just… go home. We can talk about this later.”  
“Don't bring dad into it, Jake. He'll side with me anyway, you know he will.” Troy warned. “Yeah… I know.” the older brother replied wryly with a slight grimace and a heavy sigh.  
Jake gave his younger brother the once-over to see how his face was holding up. The bandage was stained with an ugly, oozing puss and there were bits of liquified eyeball that had slid down Troy's face and onto his cheek, much too visible for Jake's liking. His expression turned to one of disgust and he averted his eyes quickly. At least the burnt parts of Troy's face had mostly healed since the sun had set, soon no one would ever know that they had been there at all. It would probably take a little longer for his hair to grow back, though. Not that it mattered much, Troy's hair was always a crazy mess anyway.  
“Your foot's alright to travel on?” Jake asked, already knowing the answer but trying to shift the conversation away from their argument and give Troy a while to calm down before he attempted to really talk to his brother about anything again.  
“Jake… it was just a regular gunshot, it practically healed before she even _fired_ the gun.” Troy snarked somewhat rudely.  
“Right...” Jake nodded. The younger Otto brother being rude had long since ceased to bother him, it was just Troy being Troy, “Let's go then.” he suggested.  
“I don't need you to babysit me, Jake.” his brother remarked disdainfully and before Jake knew it, Troy was gone.  
Jake sighed so heavily that it came out as a low growl of frustration, clearly already more than tired of having to put up with his brother's shit for the night. But that was just a big part of what Jake's life always had been and always would be, dealing with his brother because no one else cared to.  
The older Otto brother frowned slightly, looking off in the direction of his family's estate with an expression of concern before he looked in the opposite direction, towards where the vampire hunters had exited the base. He silently hoped that he and his brother would have no more run-ins with them; mostly for his brother's safety and his own sanity. The woman who had been threatening Troy certainly seemed like she knew what she was doing and could have taken Troy out without a second thought. 'She could have taken _me_ out too, had she decided to.' Jake realized, not having really been thinking too much about that at the time. He had been much more worried about something happening to his brother than to himself. If they could avoid running into them again than it would hopefully give Jake less to worry about. He would rather not have to think about even _more_ ways that Troy could get himself into trouble and possibly even killed if he didn't have to.  
'But I'm going to anyway… I always do.' Jake reminded himself, grimacing at the thought, turning and heading in the direction of home.

By the time Jake made it back Troy was already busy patrolling the grounds with a couple other vampires, all of them with rifles slung over their shoulders or held at the ready. Most of them were still dressed in the military fatigues they had taken from the border-crossing depot. Jake could hear them laughing about something off in the distance and decided that he didn't much care to be in on the conversation, he would talk to Troy more when he returned to the estate.  
The Otto estate itself hadn't been on the property when Jake's family had taken the land. That been over two centuries ago… Jake was only twenty-seven years old at the time. He had never really agreed with the decision, but the rest of his family had their minds made up that they wanted the land that the Native Americans claimed to be “cursed.” His father always insisted the opposite, that the land was holy or sacred. Back then there was nothing here but the old adobe… and the tree.  
It was the tree that poisoned the land, the way the Native people told it. They said that eating the fruit would turn men into monsters. It wasn't their land, they didn't want to keep it; they just sought to keep others away from it.  
But during this time the natives lived freely, they hadn't been forced to live on reservations yet. It was the height of the takeover of the native people's ancestral homes by the white man. It felt like such a long time ago to Jake, he was so young and foolish. He should have done more to try to convince his family to stay away from the tree… but he hadn't.  
They took this land by force and they all ate from the tree and now – as far as Jake was concerned – Walker and all of his ancestors who came before him were right, they always had been right. Jake felt cursed. He felt like a monster in the form of a man but there was nothing to be done about it now. Once his parents and Troy had eaten from the tree he had to eat. He knew that he couldn't leave his little brother alone with their parents, and he knew that if he didn't eat then his family may well have eaten him. But this… This wouldn't have ever been his choice.  
The most he could do now was try to foster some sort of peace, or at least understanding between humans and vampires, but that was much easier said than done. Jake usually didn't have much success with getting people to talk to him at all. Generally, if humans saw him coming and they knew what he was they simply attacked.  
It was the sort of 'shoot first and ask questions later' mentality that Jake was very familiar with from his youth, especially once the Wild West era came around… although, by that point, Jake was no longer human; though still quite young, by vampire standards.  
Not that he could blame humans for reacting that way to a vampire's presence, most vampires were decidedly not friendly towards them. To his kind, humans were nothing more than prey. Or, as Troy liked to put it, “sacks of skin filled with blood and different types of meat.”  
Jake was very keenly aware of how different his views were from nearly every other vampire living on their property. The others thought him weak because of it and he knew that. But he didn't see a willingness to compromise or communicate as a weakness, it was just a much more human trait than a vampire one, he supposed.  
These days most humans weren't very trusting or willing to compromise either, even among their own kind. It seemed that when the human population became infected and their world fell down around them, it placed many of them at odds with each other. The humans that were still alive had mostly survived due to being careful with who they placed their trust in.  
Again, Jake couldn't blame them for that. He just wondered if there would ever be a day when both of their people could get along, or at least communicate in some sort of less hostile manner.  
“Hey, Jake!” he heard a friendly female voice call, pulling him from his thoughts. It was Gretchen Trimbol, one of the younger, friendlier vampires in their community. She was turned by her family when she reached her eighteenth birthday and didn't look a day over that age, despite actually being around seventy or eighty.  
“Hello, Gretchen.” Jake replied, with a small smile, “How have things been around here the past couple of days?”  
“Eh, about the same really,” she replied. She sounded almost disappointed and the older vampire frowned slightly.  
“Hey, that's a good thing.” Jake reminded her. “The less people we have showing up trying to kill us the better, right?”  
She smiled back slightly. “Yeah, you're right.”  
“Good,” Jake replied as he turned to head towards the estate. Before he'd taken two steps Gretchen called for him again, “Do you want anything to eat? We just butchered one of the cows so we have some really good steak tonight.”  
Jake knew that eating a steak wouldn't do anything to satisfy his thirst for blood or sustain his life; but he wasn't the only vampire here who still enjoyed eating human food from time to time.  
“Thanks, Gretchen… I'll take a plate up to the estate with me if that's alright.”  
“Sure thing!” Gretchen replied with a large smile, heading over to the food tent. She grabbed him a tray and piled it high with steak, baked potatoes with fresh butter, and cooked carrots.  
“Here ya go,” she said, passing the tray off to Jake.  
“Thank you,” Jake nodded, smiling gratefully.  
“Don't mention it!” she replied, “Oh! Also wanted to let you know, your dad took off yesterday. Didn't say how long he'd be gone for.”  
Jake frowned slightly, not that he was surprised or disappointed. He and Troy both preferred when their dad was away, but Jeremiah would rarely tell them where he was going or why. Even so, he decided it couldn't hurt to ask. “Did he mention where he was going?”  
“Nah, just 'traveling', you know how it is. My dad went too so Russell's in charge while they're away, I guess.” she answered.  
“Yeah, I guess.” Jake replied. “Thanks for letting me know.”  
“No problem!” Gretchen beamed, flashing another fang-filled smile at Jake before she returned to her cooking.  
Jake turned back towards the Otto estate; it was a large, mainly wooden building built in the style that you'd see in old mining towns around the western part of the United States. The estate itself was horizontally long with two smaller upstairs areas, the one on the side of the house closest to Jake was where their father's study and quarters were. Jake's quarters were at the top of a set of stairs on the opposite end of the house, and Troy's room was on the first floor. There were also a couple of extra guest rooms near Troy's room and at the bottom of the stairs that led up to Jake's quarters. The study in the center of the house held a hidden trapdoor entrance into what was basically a dungeon that they typically used for holding living thralls meant for feeding. For now, though, those dungeon cells were empty.  
Keeping living thralls for extended periods of time proved to be difficult since they could only remain under a vampire's control for so long; twenty-four hours at most. After that they either lost their minds and turned into what the other vampires referred to as “sheep” (a term that Jake found highly distasteful); or instead they could be released from the vampire's control before the maximum allotted time and it would just seem to them as though they had lost time, like a black out.  
If Jake ever used living thralls he always let them live – sometimes even went to extreme lengths to give them some sort of explanation for their missing time – such as arranging a roomful of empty alcohol bottles around them. He refused to hold them until their minds snapped or they died. He wasn't really sure which was worse.  
He had his own rules when it came to feeding on humans: the blood had to be consensually given or offered and there was no need for them to die. Unfortunately for Jake, there weren't a whole lot of humans out there willing to be blood donors for a vampire… but he did have one.  
As the older Otto brother entered the estate he stopped and listened for a moment: dead silence. Just what he'd been hoping for.  
Assuming Gretchen had told him the truth – and he knew that she had no reason to lie to him – then his father wasn't home. That meant Jake was free to feed from his 'blood donor' without having to avoid any prying eyes or suspicion.  
Jake didn't know the human well. He had met him when he was out hunting for deer, which had been one of his main sources of blood up until recently. As Jake had been scanning his surroundings through the scope of his sniper rifle he saw a man instead.  
He was well-dressed – especially for a human in the apocalypse – and fairly loaded down with gear but it all looked like fairly standard things for killing the infected, not vampires.  
Since the man was alone and Jake was fairly sure that he wasn't from the surrounding area, he had decided to take the calculated risk of approaching him.  
To the vampire's extreme surprise not only was this man willing to have full conversations with him, but after he and Jake had spoken for a bit, it became clear to the human that Jake was, “reasonable,” as he put it.  
The man introduced himself as Victor Strand, and he offered to donate his in exchange for protection against the infected, and Jake had immediately agreed.  
Despite Jake having made a deal with him, the very fact that Jake was hiding a human up at the main Otto estate was insane. He was taking an incredibly large risk by keeping him there, but he did need to feed sometimes, and the blood of animals only went so far.  
The older Otto brother walked passed a dusty dining area and towards a central study, with its large, rectangular marble table covered in old tomes as the centerpiece.  
This was usually where Jake spent most of his time, reading in the dim lighting of their estate. Jake had read and re-read every book he owned countless times. He had been excited at the prospect of getting more books when he had first discovered that the internet existed, but the human world fell apart not long afterward, so he never got the chance.  
Even still, Jake was always on the lookout for new books whenever he left the house, it was one of his favorite reasons to go into the abandoned human cities and towns; he got to see everything they had left behind.  
Jake wanted to be able to form some sort of understanding with these people, and he couldn't do that if he was centuries behind them in terms of what their modern lifestyles had been like before everything went to hell. Anything that he scavenged that he didn't understand he'd begun bringing home to ask Victor about.  
He'd also begun bringing home alcohol if he could find it. His human guest seemed to be quite fond of it and although they did have liquor in the house it all belonged to Jake's father, Jeremiah. And he wasn't stupid enough to dare take anything from his father's liquor cabinet.  
Jake continued through the study area and down a short hallway, which ended in a few guest bedrooms lined up on the right side of the hall. The set of stairs that led up to his quarters was on the left, but instead of heading towards them, Jake knocked gently on the door to the guest room directly across from the stairway.  
“Victor?” the vampire asked cautiously.  
Every time Jake returned to the estate he always half-expected to find that Victor had been slaughtered in his absence.  
To his great relief that didn't seem to be the case – at least, not this time – as he heard the man's voice answer from inside, “I can't open the door for you, Jake. You lock me in here, remember?” “Only for your protection...” the vampire reminded him as he carefully held the tray of food with one hand, pulled the old, wrought-iron key to Victor's room out of his pocket and unlocked the door.  
“Mmm… is that some of that delicious-smelling steak you have there?” the human asked immediately, his attention on the food Jake had brought for him.  
“Yeah… sorry, I know when I'm gone there isn't anyone else to feed you...” the vampire apologized as he handed the tray and utensils over to Strand. He set it down on the desk and began eating right away.  
Jake quietly shut the door behind him and sat in an old wooden chair at the foot of the bed. He watched the human eat silently with slight interest.  
“You're not having any?” Strand questioned, glancing over at his vampire protector for a moment as he continued to eat.  
“No, not tonight.” Jake responded. He knew that Victor would understand the implication.  
“Ah… alright, well… let me just finish eating then. I don't suppose you brought anything for me to drink? Maybe a nice full red wine or an expensive champagne?” Strand smiled to show he was joking, though Jake knew that secretly Victor hoped the answer would be 'yes.'  
“No, sorry. I was too busy keeping my brother out of trouble this time.”  
“From what I understand this brother of yours causes a lot of trouble.” Strand observed. Jake gave him a slight smile.  
“To put it mildly,” he answered as the human finished up his meal.  
“Sounds delightful, will I ever get to meet him?”  
“Not if I have anything to say about it, no.” Jake answered, “There's a reason that I keep you locked in this room, Victor. Just because you and I have a deal… The other vampires wouldn't look too kindly on you being here. I see things very differently than they do, they'd much rather eat you than talk to you.” Jake grimaced with disapproval, “You have to stay in here for your own safety. I can't protect you any other way but by keeping you a secret, I'm sorry.”  
“Your brother does know that I'm in here though, doesn't he?” Strand inquired apprehensively.  
“…Yes,” Jake replied, albeit reluctantly, “But so far he's been keeping his mouth shut about it which I'm thankful for. I'd almost even say that he seems to approve.” The vampire furrowed his brow slightly, a slight grimace slipping across his pale lips.  
“… Really? You don't seem pleased about that.” Strand noticed.  
“It's not that… exactly.” Jake sighed slightly, “I just don't quite understand it. My brother is the type that sees humans as nothing more than food, so me hiding you up here from the others… It doesn't make sense to me why he'd be okay with that.”  
“Well… just so long as he continues to keep me a secret as well then there shouldn't be any problems… am I right?” Strand pressed.  
“If we're lucky then… yes, no problems.” Jake answered doubtfully, his brow still furrowed.  
“You're not really filling me with confidence here, Jake.” Victor smiled dryly.  
“I'm not completely reassured that my brother will keep quiet,” Jake explained quietly, “He can just be… hard to predict, at times.”  
“I see...” the human replied, skillfully banishing the worry from his voice, “Well, I can't say that's surprising. From all that you've told me, your brother doesn't seem the sort to make much sense.”  
Jake chuckled slightly, “No… no, he really isn't.”  
His fanged smile flashed in the low light of the oil lamp on Strand's desk as he laughed and the sudden direct view of Jake's fangs reminded the human what his vampire protector was really there for.  
As charming as Strand knew he was, he was well aware that Jake was in need of more than just his conversational skills. Although, from what Strand could tell, the vampire did seem to genuinely enjoy speaking with him as well.  
Jake liked to talk about his ideals and how they clashed sharply with those of the other vampires, including his family. He also talked a lot about humans and his attempts to understand their society, and how he wished that more of them were as willing to speak to him as Strand was.  
In fact, it seemed to Strand that before he had come along, Jake may not have had anyone to really talk to at all. Not anyone that would have understood or really listened, anyway. This put Strand in an advantageous position. Even if he ever became useless to Jake as a blood source Victor knew he was fully capable of playing the friendship card.  
He knew that he and Jake weren't 'friends' really, but he could certainly con the vampire into believing so.  
After all, Jake clearly needed someone to talk to. 'I might as well be that someone…' Strand thought, though he reminded himself not to place too much trust in a vampire that he barely knew.  
Yes, Jake seemed reasonable, but from all that he'd heard about them from Madison they were as real a threat as the infected, but exceptionally more dangerous because they weren't just mindlessly driven by instinct like the infected were. Vampires were clever hunters.  
According to Madison, vampires were just as capable of conning others as Strand was.  
'Well… maybe not quite as capable as I am.' Strand thought to himself with a slight grin.  
Though, so far as Victor could tell, Jake wasn't lying to him… He was pretty sure that Jake would actually be quite bad at lying if he ever tried.  
Madison had always insisted that you couldn't turn your back on a vampire, that you couldn't trust them. Strand was certain that she wouldn't approve of him being there now.  
He had lost contact with her and her family when Thomas' estate burned down and he hadn't seen any of them since. He had been left on his own… and a man couldn't survive in this new world with nothing but his wits and charm to get him by.  
You needed people now, more than ever. But trust wasn't given as freely as it was before, not that it was something Strand ever really gave away for free. There had been precious few people in his life whom he could truly claim to have trusted. And now he knew it was more dangerous than ever to put his trust in anyone other than himself… and even that could be shaky some days. Now he generally avoided relying on others like a vampire avoided silver, it was simply safer that way.  
Still, Strand wasn't a fool. He knew that if he wanted to survive he couldn't do it on his own. He wouldn't have thought that he would've ended up seeking refuge with a vampire, of all things. But this new world was one of constant surprises that you never quite would've expected.  
At least this one seemed to be working out. 'For now.' He reminded himself once more.  
As Strand pulled himself from his thoughts, he decided that it was probably better to get the less pleasant part of their visit out of the way. Lord knows Jake would just sit there babbling forever if Strand didn't bring it up first.  
“So… you probably need something to eat as well then, I suppose?” He inquired as he rolled up the sleeve of his purple button-up shirt to the elbow and held his arm out, the veins of his inner wrist facing up.  
Jake's bright blue eyes flashed down to Strand's arm before moving back to his face. “If that's alright-” the vampire began.  
Victor interrupted him, “Jake, I wouldn't be here if I hadn't already offered my blood to you. It's alright. Just… don't drink too much.”  
The vampire gave a small, almost sheepish smile as he silently crossed the room to where Victor sat and knelt beside his outstretched arm, “You know I'm very careful not to do that.”  
“Yeah, I know.” Strand sighed, taking a deep breath in and out through his nose as he prepared for Jake's bite.  
The vampire took Victor's arm gently and held it still so as to cause as little pain as possible as he slowly sank his fangs into the flesh of the human's forearm.  
A gush of warm blood flowed into Jake's mouth immediately and he closed his eyes. He kept his breathing steady as he fed and was very careful to only feed as much as he needed to, as always. Not only was there no need to drink more than necessary, but if he drank too much at once he could either make Victor sick or accidentally kill him.  
Before long he pulled away. Strand immediately turned and opened a desk drawer with his other hand and retrieved one of the packs of bandages that Jake had stockpiled there for him. Jake stood and took a roll of medical tape from the same drawer, helping to wrap the bandage that Victor had pressed tightly against his bite wound to keep it in place. Once the bandage was secured, Jake silently crossed the room and returned to his chair, giving his blood donor a small smile of appreciation as he did so.  
Jake fed much more cleanly than Strand would've ever expected from a vampire, and his bites never bled for long. It had also been a helpful tip that Madison had taught him that vampire bites were not what turned you, it was their blood mixing with yours or if you ingest it somehow that caused it. Victor wasn't sure how anyone could ever 'accidentally' ingest a vampire's blood, but according to Madison it sometimes happened and he deferred to her knowledge on the subject.  
Strand didn't even know if Madison and her family had made it out of Thomas' estate alive, he barely had managed to himself. He knew that it was quite possible that they were still out there, somewhere. He hoped that they were.  
They were all strong, smart, and knew how to survive. He'd seen that. As it was, Strand wasn't even sure that he wanted to survive anymore, or if there was anything else worth living for.  
Thomas was gone, the Abigail was gone, anything that he'd ever cared about in his life was gone. Maybe being here was the wrong call, maybe it was the right one, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that for now, he was alive and he had some sort of odd purpose in helping to keep Jake alive… 'At least, in a sense.' Victor thought as he glanced over at his undead companion.  
At the same time, Strand hardly felt as though he belonged there… and some days he secretly hoped that maybe Jake would forget to lock the door. Maybe his brother would eat him alive and that would be the end of it.  
Suddenly Strand laughed dryly, derisively, “We both need some therapy, my friend.” he snickered.  
Jake blinked his reflective eyes very suddenly, shocked. The human realized that this may have been the first time someone who wasn't a vampire had referred to him as a friend.  
From the way Jake spoke of how much the other vampires disagreed with him maybe he hadn't even been referred to as someone's “friend” since he himself was human, and Victor didn't have the faintest idea how long ago that had been. Though, from what he gathered, it had been quite a long time. Or, at least, Jake seemed to feel that it had been.  
The wheels in Victor's head turned methodically. He wondered if Jake would be able to see through him simply being a con man or whether he would think that perhaps he actually cared about him as a friend.  
It wasn't that Strand disliked Jake, he liked him just fine. But there was a certain safety in keeping people at a distance, especially now. But he could also keep Jake safely at a distance without the vampire actually knowing that he was doing so.  
He knew Jake wasn't a fool and there was a great possibility that he knew that Strand didn't actually think of him as a friend. Not precisely, anyway.  
But if Jake was as desperate to have someone to talk to as he seemed to be then he may be more receptive to believing that he and Strand were friends than he may have been otherwise.  
There was a somewhat awkward moment of silence where the vampire simply stared at him in bewilderment, as though he didn't know how to respond.  
Jake was observant, and he'd spent enough time talking to and watching Victor to draw certain conclusions. He was a charming man, but also very guarded.  
For as much talking as Jake did about himself; his worries, his ideas... Strand had barely revealed anything personal about himself at all.  
Jake knew that the two of them weren't really friends, not in any traditional sense of the word, anyway. But… none of that really particularly mattered. Not right now, anyway.  
He didn't know if Victor wanted him to believe that they were friends or not. He didn't know if he was trying to be manipulative or if he was simply being friendly. Jake didn't have enough recent experience communicating with humans for him to be sure either way.  
But regardless of the reality of the situation Strand was the first person that Jake had ever been able to openly talk to without fear of ridicule or argument in his entire life, and whether they were friends or not that still meant something to him.  
As he formulated an answer, Jake pondered slightly on how he was only vaguely aware of what exactly 'therapy' even was, but he understood enough to know Strand's intent. He smiled back at him, a small, sad smile.  
“I think that everyone needs some therapy now… if they didn't before,” he replied quietly, “We've all suffered… In our own ways.”  
“… Even your brother?” Strand asked cautiously, unsure as to what Jake's answer would be, or if that was even something that should be brought up. Victor didn't really know too much about Jake's brother aside from the fact that he was the youngest Otto, he could be unpredictable, and he seemed to cause his brother no small amount of trouble.  
Jake looked down as his hands, sighing softly, before he returned his gaze to Victor. His blue eyes shone with the deepest look of sorrow that Strand had ever seen Jake show openly.  
“Especially my brother.” His pallid features were overcome by worry for a moment and the silence was almost deafening.  
Then, quite suddenly, Jake collected himself; perhaps he realized that he didn't want to reveal so much to Strand, not right in that moment, anyway.  
“Speaking of my brother… I should probably check on him, make sure he isn't getting into any more trouble.” The vampire gave a small, dejected smile and walked to the door. He avoided looking directly at Strand any longer as he attempted to brush off how overwhelmed he'd felt just a moment ago.  
“Yeah… sure.” Strand replied quietly, his brows furrowed slightly.  
Victor had seen Jake get somewhat emotional about things before, but it was usually frustration or worry. Nothing to the extent of what he had just seen.  
It was like the Jake that he usually spoke to was a carefully crafted mask to make it seem like he was fine to those around him when he really, clearly was not in any way. 'I guess he could be a better liar than I thought...' Strand mused.  
“I'll bring you more food so if I have to leave for a couple days again then you'll be alright.” Jake said softly. Strand nodded his understanding and Jake swiftly left the room, carefully avoiding making any more eye contact.  
Strand heard the loud clunking sound of the old key as it turned in the lock of his door. After that there was nothing but silence. Strand never heard Jake's footsteps as he walked towards the study and paced there as he struggled to hold down his emotions. 

Jake strode quickly back and forth several times, breathing soft, shallow breaths.  
As a vampire, breathing was not something that came naturally to him, or even something that he needed to do to survive, but sometimes it just made him feel a bit calmer if he took a moment to inhale and exhale. If for no other reason than to simply remind himself that he was, in fact, alive.  
“What's wrong with you?”  
The older Otto brother stopped dead in his tracks, his breathing coming to an abrupt halt as he heard his younger brother's voice from behind him.  
When he hadn't been looking, Troy had slipped in the front door and sat at the marble table where he had promptly placed his muddy, blood-filled combat boots up on top of Jake's delicate antique books.  
“Troy… how many times do I have to remind you not to put your feet on my books?!” Jake snapped as he moved over and pulled Troy's feet off of the table, already annoyed at him despite Troy only having been present for a few seconds.  
“You didn't answer my question...” Troy responded, curiously aware that Jake didn't seem to want to answer.  
He quickly replaced his boots on the table, pressing him further. “What's wrong, Jake?”  
The older Otto brother glared slightly at Troy's filthy boots and let out a slow, angry sigh that sounded much more like a hiss as it escaped through his fangs.  
“You don't really care or want to know, you're just trying to get under my skin. Can we just… not do this right now, Troy? Please?”  
Troy removed his feet from the table and leaned forward, studying his brother carefully. He was clearly agitated, but Troy wasn't sure what about.  
“...Does this have to do with the depot?” he guessed.  
“I… no...” Jake replied quietly, “Not… not really...”  
“'No?' Or 'not really', which one?”  
“Not really.” Jake replied with agitation. “Look, I'm tired, I don't really want to talk to you about this anymore.” He grumbled, “There… isn't really much more to say about it.”  
“But it's still bothering you?” Troy asked, though it felt more like a statement than a question.  
“Why wouldn't it bother me, Troy?” he snapped at his brother once more, becoming frustrated with his prodding.  
Troy seemed slightly taken aback by the question and went quiet for a moment. He averted his eyes from his brother awkwardly and looked about the room as though searching for some hidden answer.  
“I don't really know why it bothered you in the first place, Jake.” Troy responded as he looked back to his brother, an expression of genuine confusion on his face, “I was fine, so were you, the sun was going down… We were all fine.” he shrugged as though to say, 'problem solved' without actually speaking the words.  
Jake sighed heavily, discouraged by his brother's lack of understanding. He crossed his arms as he looked down at the marble floor of the study.  
“She could have killed you, you idiot.” he whispered, his voice thick with worry.  
“I'm not a kid, Jake, I had her!” Troy insisted, his tone becoming argumentative. “I don't need you worrying over me all the time… You aren't mom!”  
Both brothers went quiet. They avoided looking at each other for what seemed like an eternity.  
Several things came to Jake's mind to say, but he knew that in the end there was nothing that he could say in response that would not upset his brother. Their mother had died a very long time ago now, but it still affected both brothers deeply, especially Troy, and Jake knew that.  
“I'm not trying to be...” Jake eventually whispered softly in response, his eyes still averted from his brother.  
“Really?! Could've fooled me!!” Troy snapped back, rising to his feet with such speed it was as though he was propelled by the amount of anger in his voice.  
Jake's eyes snapped upwards towards his brother, slightly shocked. He had expected Troy to be upset, regardless of his response, but for his temper to ignite that quickly was somewhat surprising, even for him. The two brothers locked eyes with each other, neither one of them speaking or looking away.  
The older brother's eyes were full of sadness, but Troy's were flashing with fury.  
He had a tendency to mask anything he felt too keenly with rage, trying to keep himself from actually feeling anything else. Jake had always been aware of that. But he still saw the hurt in Troy's eyes, even if Troy wouldn't allow himself to feel it.  
Just as Jake began to open his mouth to speak, his younger brother interrupted.  
“Did you feed on your human pet today?” Troy practically spat the words out, as though they left a foul taste on his tongue.  
Jake suddenly realized why his brother was so angry, and it had nothing to do with Jake being worried over Troy… It was actually quite the opposite.  
“I… Yes.” the older Otto brother responded quietly.  
“Good, would be a shame if you starved yourself for nothing.” Troy hissed with what sounded quite convincingly like displeasure.  
Jake knew that this was actually Troy showing that he did care. He'd just… never been particularly good at it.  
“I'm feeding, Troy...” Jake responded softly, “You don't have to worry about that.”  
“I'm not worried!” Troy snapped, perhaps a little too quickly. He seemed to realize that it sounded like he was trying too hard to be convincing and he frowned, repeating himself slowly.  
“I'm… not… worried.” Troy fixed his reflective eyes very pointedly on Jake as he said this, narrowing them into a glare as he realized that Jake understood exactly what he was doing.  
The younger Otto brother made a growling noise of frustration as he turned away from Jake and began to stalk down the hall towards his bedroom.  
“Troy?” Jake called after his brother, trying to get him to slow down for a moment so that they could talk; it was obvious that they both needed to.  
However, his brother didn't even spare him a backward glance, instead simply grumbling, “Leave me alone, Jake.” as he proceeded into his room and slammed the door.  
Jake paused for a moment before silently following his brother down the opposite hallway from where Victor's room was and stopped before his brother's bedroom door. He lifted his hand to knock gently with the back of his knuckles but he wavered.  
'Do I want to push this?' he asked himself, genuinely unsure of the answer. Hovering outside of Troy's bedroom for a moment longer he simply stood still and listened for any noises coming from within. He didn't hear anything other than the sound of one of Troy's cats clawing at the wall.  
After a moment of awkward inactivity Jake suddenly heard his brother's irritated voice come through from the other side of the door.  
“I know you're out there.” he stated bluntly, “I told you to leave me alone. I don't want to talk about it and you damn well know that I don't.”  
Jake's answer was the statement of a simple fact, not intended to provoke, although he knew that saying as much would do so anyway, his intentions aside. “...You were the one who brought it up, Troy.”  
“Fuck off, Jake!” Troy spat angrily, the sound of a cat hissing within the room accompanying his foul words. “You know we don't talk about that. You know that I don't want to. Not ever!” His words dripped with bitter resentment as he continued, “Though, for all I know, you've forgotten. You sure never seemed to feel a goddamn thing about it.”  
“Troy, you know that's not-”  
The younger brother interrupted, his fury exploding out of him like a volcano, “DO I KNOW, JAKE?! HM!?” he demanded harshly. “I was in pieces and what did YOU ever do about it?! Not a GODDAMN thing!! So don't you talk to me about how you UNDERSTAND! Because you FUCKING DON'T, Jake!! If you ever need another goddamn reminder just look next door! I see it EVERY FUCKING DAY and I have to LIVE WITH THAT!” Troy roared, the pain and ferocity in his voice straining until it broke and Jake could hear him quietly beginning to sob alone in his bedroom.  
The older Otto brother swallowed hard, his heart wrenching as he glanced sidelong at the bedroom beside Troy's which had been boarded up over a century and a half ago. The room their mother had died in.  
Jake knew that there were no words he could ever say to make that pain go away. Not for himself and least of all for Troy. He knew that what Troy wanted right now was space… and maybe that was genuinely what he needed.  
He also knew that if he simply left Troy alone without another word it would just be one more sign to his brother that, in his mind, proved how little of a damn Jake gave. But nothing could be further from the truth. Not now and not back then.  
Troy just had an extremely hard time seeing these things. He spent so much of his life trying to get their parents to love him that he had completely blinded himself to the fact that Jake was the one who was always there. He was the one who had been caring for and loving Troy all along. Whenever his brother hurled insults about Jake not caring or never being there he did his best not to let it get to him, he had a thicker skin then it probably seemed about these things. But not because it was something that he wanted to do. He'd just learned that building walls was the only way to keep himself as sane as he could possibly be, given all the shit that he and his family had gone through… and, truth be told, that really wasn't all that sane anymore anyway.  
After he allowed the silence to sink in for a moment Jake spoke once again, quietly and calmly. “Troy…” he began, “Please let me in. I want to help… but I can't do anything from out here. Let me talk to you… please.” The older Otto brother held the palm of his pale hand up against Troy's door, feeling uselessly trapped. As much as he understood the need to have emotional and mental walls to protect your own sanity, he sometimes wished that it was possible for Troy to let his down… even just for a moment.  
Jake would have preferred that Troy felt comfortable enough with his own brother to talk to him if he needed to, but it didn't have to be him that he talked to. Jake just wanted Troy to have someone that he felt he could talk to if he needed it… Anyone. But the older Otto brother was also aware that aside from himself, Troy really didn't have too many other options.  
To put it mildly, his brother had... little talent for making friends.  
Then again, if the shoe was on the other foot and it was Jake who needed to talk to someone… He wasn't sure that he would be able to let his own walls down for Troy. Or anyone else, for that matter. Jake had spent too much of his life building those walls so that he could be strong when Troy was not. Which was why, he supposed, it often seemed to Troy that he didn't care about things that affected him so deeply. Jake most certainly cared, but he didn't allow himself to get upset or enraged. He was ever the calm, quiet, older brother; ready to protect and love Troy as best as he could and pick up the pieces when something broke him.  
At those times in his life Troy certainly wasn't in any fit state to even be trying to piece himself back together. Jake had taken it upon himself since they were children to take care of Troy. Especially once it became clear that no one else would. Jake had never had the luxury of acknowledging or experiencing his own emotions when he was too busy putting Troy back together again or trying his best to make sure that he didn't fall apart in the first place.  
The stillness that continued to stretch on between the two brothers was deafening, and Jake nearly felt as though years could have passed around the two of them in that moment, and neither of them would know.  
Throughout the profound lull in their conversation Troy had been pacing across the creaky, blood-stained floor of his bedroom, considering Jake's request to be let in so that they could speak. The younger Otto brother knew that it wasn't something he could do. It wasn't something he even wanted to do. In that moment, he just wanted to destroy anything he could get his hands on.  
But as tears continued to silently roll down his pale face they cooled his anger to an icy, unfeeling, and closed-off sort of rage that only seemed to happen to Troy when his emotions had been pushed too far too fast. He was no longer breathing fire. He could no longer feel that heat rising within his chest. It had now been replaced by a keen lack of feeling, a numbness that permeated his entire being and left him feeling hollow and empty.  
Troy finally stopped and stood by the door, holding a shaking hand near the knob, knowing that his brother was on the other side. He wrestled with himself internally on whether on not that door should remain shut when part of him already knew the answer.  
'That door will always be closed, Troy. You know that.' he told himself, his long, pale fingers slowly curling into a fist and pulling away from the doorknob as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against the door, his eyes easing themselves closed.  
“I can't, Jake...” Troy finally responded, his voice devoid of emotion, barely above a whisper, “You know that I can't.”  
“I...” Jake began, resting his forehead on the opposite side of the bedroom door, the two of them trapped in an emotional stalemate made physical by the door that stood between them, knowing that no matter how close they may be, they were both entirely closed off from one another.  
“I know…” he continued, “I-”  
“Don't.” Troy interrupted, knowing full well what his brother wanted to say, “Just… don't.”  
“...I'm sorry, Troy.”  
Relieved that Jake decided to revise his words in light of Troy's objection, he sighed softly, “Don't be sorry, just… leave. Please.”  
Jake nodded his consent against the door, knowing that nothing more needed to or should be said at that point. He slowly pulled away, pausing for just a moment, not wanting to leave his brother isolated in his current state but also understanding full well that it was all that he could do to help him right now.  
The older brother gradually turned away from Troy's room and quietly exited the hallway into the study once more, continuing through the central area towards the other hallway at the far end where he had been speaking to Victor not but a few moments before his confrontation with his brother.  
As he reached the bottom of the stairs that led up to his own quarters he heard a soft knock from Victor's room behind him and paused, contemplating if he really wanted to deal with whatever it was Victor was going to say at this point.  
The answer was no, but he sighed and glanced over his shoulder to ask anyway, “...What is it, Victor?” his tone was a bit short, but he was no longer in the mood to talk at present.  
“Is… everything alright out there?” Strand's voice inquired from the other side of his door.  
“Nothing you need concern yourself with, Victor.” Jake answered curtly, “Try to get some sleep.”  
“Don't see how I can do that with the two of you-”  
Jake interrupted, “Our disagreement is over. It's done. Forget that it even happened, alright?” he snapped, his tone seething with agitation.  
Jake never meant to come off as being unfriendly to Victor, but this was simply not the time for the human to be bothering him. He knew that his guest didn't mean anything by it… Although he somehow doubted that Strand was asking purely out of altruism. He was fairly certain that it was much more likely that Victor was wondering if he should be concerned about his own neck rather than anything else.  
Thankfully, Strand seemed to take the hint, “Well… alright then. So long as you're alright.”  
“Everything is fine.” Jake responded, his words dripping with annoyance, although, as an afterthought, he added, “...Thank you… for asking.” In a slightly calmer tone.  
Strand chuckled slightly, “From the sound of it I don't think that you mean that right now, but it's my pleasure, Jake.”  
Jake gave a slight frown as he turned his attention away from Strand's room and climbed the stairs to his own, closing and locking the door behind him.  
As much as Troy needed his space right now, Jake needed it as well. If he didn't find something else to set his mind on then all that he'd be capable of doing right now would be lying around on his bed worrying over his brother like a parent worries after their child.  
Over the centuries that he had spent taking care of his younger brother – even before they were vampires – his relationship with his brother had… changed somehow. On his end, at least.  
It was a feeling derived from dedicating your life to caring for someone younger than you, someone who needed you whether or not they might admit to or even realize it. And at some point – Jake had never been sure when exactly – Troy was no longer just a younger brother to him, he had begun to view Troy very much as a father might view his son. Though he highly doubted that Troy himself saw it this way, and it by no means meant that he was no longer his brother, it was just that now… he was both.  
When Jake thought about it he supposed that it was an inevitability that he would end up feeling that way since he was the only one who even bothered to raise Troy and he did so on his own, with no prodding or persuasion, he simply knew that someone had to help Troy. Someone had to love him. And Jake did love his brother. More than anything. But it wasn't something he could tell him. Troy… wouldn't accept it. Jake was fairly certain that he simply didn't know how.  
With an audible sigh Jake sat on the edge of his bed, looking around the room for something to take his troubled mind off of his heavy thoughts. The vampire's gaze settled on one of the many old books that decorated the wooden shelves around his room. Reaching over, he pulled it to him and ran one thumb down the spine, his electric blue eyes fondly reading over the title: Wuthering Heights, a book which had been one of his favorites since he had first read it back in 1847.  
During times like this Jake had little to occupy his busy mind aside from becoming absorbed within one of his favorite novels, regardless of how well-read the book was already. He debated internally on whether this was the novel he wished to devote his attention to currently as he eyed the bookshelf across from him, glancing over the other titles briefly, but none of them appealed to him any more than the novel which was already in his hands.  
The book in one hand, Jake propped up his pillows against the headboard and settled against them, grabbing his bifocal glasses off of the nightstand to perch carefully on his nose before opening the book and beginning his reading. If there was one thing that was certain to take his mind off of recent events, it was a good book, and at that moment Jake felt like he needed it more than anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, feel free to leave comments or ask questions! We don't bite...much. ;P

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, feel free to leave comments or ask questions! We don't bite...much. ;P


End file.
